


paper cranes

by inwoo (arcane_hero), kbodnon



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, F/M, Orphans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27025834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcane_hero/pseuds/inwoo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kbodnon/pseuds/kbodnon
Summary: Japanese legend says that if you make a wish and add up a thousand paper cranes, it will definitely come true.
Relationships: Konan/Uchiha Obito
Kudos: 7





	paper cranes

**Author's Note:**

> Konan - 26 y.o.  
> Obito - 25 y.o.   
> Nagato - 9 y.o.

Obito tries to dampen his breath by holding the air in his lungs as long as possible and slowly exhale it into the blanket afterwards so as not to scare the air away. He woke up a few minutes ago, but he froze like a quiet dog, as soon as he opened and focused his eyes. Konan sits on the bed with her back to him, very carefully folding something on the surface of the nightstand – her fingers slide smoothly, smoothing out the paper edges and connecting the diagonals. Obito doesn’t see what the smooth folds of paper become, but knows for sure they have wings and beak. Konan has been counting down the time with white cranes for over a year - stacked one every morning and evening, and then burns it in the bathroom and washes it away the ashes in the drain. When the sound of water is mixed with the smell of cigarettes and menthol, it becomes a little more salty, flowing into the drain with a rapid stream; then Obito notices the lashes sticking together from the moisture and red eyes. Konan usually leaves despair in the bathtub, having chopped it off with a closed door, and only suppressing the last sobs, goes to wake Nagato. He shouldn’t know about menthols or cranes.

Konan gets up and puts a small winged figure on the window sill – gives it a chance to breathe in the pouring rain and get acquainted with the blurred outlines of the city before betraying the little autodafé. She turns around and barely noticeably flinches when she encounters him. Obito has noticed.

“How much is left?”

“Fourteen.”

“Soon will be five hundred days.”

“Yes, I know.”

Obito tilts the blanket and gets up from the bed, the cool air from the open window gently envelops the naked hot skin, leaving him with goosebumps and shivers. He understands that words will not help and is unlikely to calm Konan down – if he could, he would have done it a year ago. But Konan doesn't like to talk about his father's death, or about the child from another marriage he left her. She prefers to lock all her weaknesses in ten locks and only let them out in closed rooms while her half brother sleeps behind the wall. He wasn't and will hardly ever be there: he's a hand-dog who is doomed to sleep on the sofa forever. But he helps her to keep the keys to those locks, protects her from the outside world and tries to warm her at night with the devotion and warmth of his own body.

“Have a rest. I'll make breakfast,” Obito says and kisses her on the temple. Konan feels relieved and nods gratefully, picking up the crane from the window sill.

***

Konan sings lullabies about birds and sleepy creatures while Nagato tries to suppress his dry cough and finally fall asleep. A runny nose doesn’t allow him to breathe normally, and he has a fever from high temperatures, but his sister's quiet voice gently envelops him, ready to protect him from all diseases and misfortunes. Nagato squeezes her hand and is afraid to let go, as if she would immediately follow his parents and leave him alone again. But Konan stays – she smoothes the blanket and leans down, leaving a warm kiss on his forehead. Nagato coughs up again, wheezing air with his mouth, but quickly calms down and chilly wraps himself in the blanket, closing his eyes. Heavy breathing is gradually leveled off, occasionally interrupted by convulsive sighs. Konan exhales with relief, gently clutching her fingers in Nagato's palm and remains for a while, watching over his restless sleep.

She once again kisses him on the forehead for the night and quietly leaves the room, tightly closing the door behind her. The last paper chick is already waiting for her in the bathroom, ready to fulfill the wish and burn in the ritual fire. Cigarettes with menthol remain on the shelf – she gives all the remaining fire to the paper in a desperate rush to reject her anxious thoughts and wash them off along with ash water. Exactly five hundred days have passed since her father's death, each of which Konan measured the cranes disappearing in the gutter, as if this could really help to cope with the slowly devouring despair that she tried to hide as deep inside as possible. She has been hiding it ever since she saw the crying and completely lost children's eyes in front of her – there was much more fear and pain in them than she had ever experienced. But perhaps her wish came true with the first chick burned. Around the time Nagato stopped crying and called her by her name for the first time while Obito stood beside her and held her hand in his own.


End file.
